Nothing else mattered
by sanguis in aeternum
Summary: This is where she belonged. She'd pledged that long ago, and it was far more than century old oaths that held her here.


**Title: **Nothing else mattered  
**Characters/Pairing: **Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Warnings: **none  
**Summary: **_Prompt: Klaus/Rebekah/Elijah, "You said always and forever, now I believe you baby, you said always and forever, is such a long and lonely time." _

* * *

Rebekah hummed softly, reassuringly. No melody in particular, just quiet, repetitive noises.

The pressure of Niklaus' arms around her waist was almost painful, but she kept still, her thumb rubbing slow circles along the inside of her brother's wrist.

He'd quieted now, but her ears still echoed with the sound of his screaming. He did little else anymore.

His moments of lucidity, all but gone.

30 years.

It had been 30 years since the first symptoms of the hunters curse had surfaced.

Elijah had long since stopped reassuring her that perhaps he'd get better, that he would improve.

They knew better now.

Niklaus had lashed out at them before. Confused and frightened. Her brother's eyes staring back at her with no recognition.

She'd left Niklaus to Elijah for the evening, as she did every few days, so she could hunt. Upon her return Rebekah had heard the shouting from the street, Niklaus' voice shrill and defiant. He was speaking to their father.

She'd rushed up the stairs and into the cottage they were occupying just in time to see Niklaus plunge a broken chair leg into Elijah's chest.

Elijah's hands were held out to his sides. He made no motion to defend himself, although it would have been simple. He never did.

He's just frightened, Elijah would tell her.

His passivity in the face of their brother's madness did little to help him this time.

Rebekah did not know which was worse: seeing the life slowly drain from Elijah's eyes or watching the horror fill Niklaus' when he realized what he'd just done.

It had taken her hours to settle him, her reassurances that Elijah would wake in time falling on deaf ears. As far gone as Niklaus was, it was quite possible he believed he'd just killed their brother.

He'd cried out, wailing, something wretched and tortured that scraped like knives on her insides, his hands clawing so hard at his own face that his fingernails left deep gouges behind.

When Niklaus raised the makeshift stake he'd brandished at Elijah to his own chest, she easily overpowering him in his weakened state.

This was her life now.

It wasn't the first time Niklaus had attempted to end his own existence.

Rebekah ran her hands along Niklaus' back, his neck, his shoulders. Abandoning her practiced English for their native tongue as she spoke softly. Her voice was little more than a distant litany to him right now, she knew. But she'd give him all she had regardless.

She watched as Niklaus cradled their brother to his chest, pressing a kiss to Elijah's unresponsive mouth, tears dripping off the end of his nose to roll down the sides of Elijah's ashen face. She felt, for the first time in centuries, what she could only liken to nausea rise in her stomach.

How had they become this?

Even after everything had settled. Even with Niklaus a solid weight in her lap, she'd never felt so disconnected, so alone.

She listened to Niklaus whimper in his sleep.

Her brother was barely recognizable to her anymore.

And Elijah, pale and still on the floor beside them, gave all he had to their Niklaus and had very little left behind to offer her.

She thought of the dozen or so letters that lined the inside of her dresser drawer. Kol beckoning her to him, unrelentingly.

She missed him.

She missed his foolish humor and his annoyingly perfect grin.

But she'd never go to him.

**Always and forever.**

This is where she belonged. She'd pledged that long ago, and it was far more than century old oaths that held her here.

Rebekah was drawn from her musing when she noticed Elijah beginning to stir. She disentangled herself partially from Niklaus and placed a hand to the back of Elijah's neck while his eyes opened slowly.

They would stick together, regardless. Nothing else mattered.


End file.
